Vernon Being a Noisy Tena (1/1)

Three hours. One hundred and eighty minutes of continuous noise. Three hours of this:“PULL UP ON YOUR WACKS WITH THE MACK FULLY LOADED UH—” What the hell did that even mean. She wanted to just grab her broomstick and shove the other end into the wall separating the rooms, but her neighbor probably wouldn’t even notice. Moving in last week was supposed to be an exciting moment, a new chapter in her life, but for the past two days she’s been noticing the tenant in the opposite room was an absolute nuisance. Considering it was early noon, her other neighbors were probably out working (y’know, with lives and all that) and had no need to complain about her mysterious neighbor’s wall-shattering rapping. But she was home, and that’s all that mattered. “Oh, she says she loves my rap.” she heard the speakers blare from the opposite room. She scoffed, yeah right. Forcing herself to concentrate on her paper (so far, five words out of the five thousand), she glued herself to her desk and tried to type, hoping her new noise-cancelling headphones would be delivered by the end of the day. Sure, she could’ve moved to a cute coffee shop down the street, or go to the library and finish her work there, but it was her home, dammit. She had a right to peace in her own home. Maybe if she just tuned everything out, she could isolate the music away and she’d be able to finish. Yeah, that could be done. Five minutes later, “PULL UP—” That’s it. Throwing her textbook against the wall, she shot up, throwing her door open and banging as loud as possible on her neighbor’s door. Ten seconds passed, and the music was still going strong. Kicking with her bare feet, she knocked harder. Finally, the noise from the other room dissolved into a low hum, and the door opened with a soft click.  “Hi, can I help you?” her neighbor asked politely. Oh, he’s gorgeous. He completely ripped away her predetermined schema; typical wannabe rap star with an excessively large hat and a terrible attitude. But he was your boy-next-door type to the nines: dressed in a simple green sweater and sensibly fitted jeans. He had bright, glowing brown eyes that were so light from the typical deep chocolate she was used to seeing, it was almost unreal. She had to will herself to not get lost in the flecks of caramel in his eyes, because he was still a jerk who played obnoxiously loud music. “Yeah, actually.” she finally said, mustering enough courage to stand her ground. “You’ve been playing music the entire weekend and I’ve been trying to write a really important paper. It’s been so loud that my books were shaking.” “Wait, you’re the new neighbor?” and his eyes bugged out, which only made him even more adorable, airgo making her incredibly weak with the butterflies assaulting her stomach. “I’m so, so sorry. Usually, no one’s around at this time so I thought it’d be okay. I didn’t know you were here already.” and he suddenly bowed, “I’m Vernon.” Feeling guilty for thinking he was a terrible neighbor, she immediately bowed back and said her name, sticking out her hand. “It’s fine, really.” It really wasn’t, her paper was calling her name from two meters away, but if he could be apologetic, so can she. “I don’t mind music, just not when I’m working.” “Oh, I’m the exact opposite. Like, music is my entire life.” Was he always this expressive when he talked? His eyes were practically bouncing in accordance to his hand gestures, and his eyebrows raised and dipped with every micro expression. And he was smiling, and it was so blinding it almost made that loud music worth it. “I really get in the zone and it just feels like I’m in my element and—” he stopped, and his large grin melted in a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I? You have a paper to write and I’m keeping you from it. I’ll turn the music down and let you get back to work.” “It’s okay, I’m almost done with it anyway.” Lies, but again, worth it. “What do you like about music?” “Um, well, everything.” and he tilted his head to the side, leaning against his doorframe. He was really getting worked up over a simple question, and his eagerness just bounced off of her like rubber and it made her want to hear more. “Err, do you wanna come in and talk? It’s a little messy, but I kinda don’t want you standing in the middle of the hallway.” and as if he sensed her apprehension, he blurted, “I’m not weird, or crazy. I won’t try to kidnap you or anything just… ah—”She laughed. “Exactly what a kidnapper would say.” she teased, and followed him inside. While the room was a bit messy, it was also incredibly bland. There was a makeshift wall of mirrors on one end, ones that touched all the way to the floor, and the decently sized couch was pushed to the side. There was an old stereo in the corner, overwhelmed with a barrier of CDs. It was a one-room apartment like hers, and she found the kitchenette sadly bare, with a large fruit bowl consisting of one lonely overripe banana. “Uh,” he looked off to the side, holding his neck, as if he were uncomfortable in his own place. “Did you eat yet? Lemme make the weekend up to you, I’ll make lunch.” Wow, was this guy perfect or what? “You cook?” she asked. “Wait, no. Misleading suggestion,” he facepalmed, swiveling around the island to fill up a glass of water. “I’m a terrible cook. I can’t even chop garlic. But I know this really awesome take-out place around the corner, I’ll buy.” “You don’t have to do that, I said it’s okay.” she said, accepting the proffered glass of water. “And I said it’s not.” he insisted with a frown. “I already made a terrible impression being your neighbor.” “On the contrary.” she looked up at him through her glass. “You’ve managed to let me into your house, and invite me to have lunch with you. I’d say you’ve done alright. Do you do this to your other neighbors?” “Well, no.” he confessed shyly. “Alright, we can order lunch.” she said, leaning against the countertop. “So long as you get to talk about your music, I’m still interested.”“Same, I’m interested in you too.” his face suddenly fell in horror and he cringed at his unintentional word-vomit. His cheeks started to flare all the way to his ears, and he shook his head. “I mean, I’m interested in your work. I mean, you’ve very interesting too, I just didn’t mean it like that. Unless you want it to be like that, in that case—”She held up a hand, saving him from further embarrassment. “Vernon?”“Yeah?”“Pull up on your wacks with the mack fully loaded?”